


we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us.

by judypoovey



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Ace Noah, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bi Beth, F/F, Gay Tara, Happy suburban AU, Orphan Noah, Slight Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judypoovey/pseuds/judypoovey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently orphaned Tara Chambler has no business falling for doe-eyed, guitar strumming country girl Beth Greene, but it becomes increasingly impossible to resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i need to be youthfully felt, cause lord i never felt young

Tara Chambler was an orphan. Not the kind of orphan that was going to save the world like Luke Skywalker or Harry Potter. Just, like, an orphan, with no parents or grandparents or siblings left in the world. She was a little lonely, sitting there in the social worker’s car. She had been given a choice – a group home or the one person who had offered to take a 16 year old lesbian in for the next two years. And she’d taken a dive, and was hoping for the best.

It wasn’t like her to take risks, really, but there didn’t seem to be a playing it safe option in the ‘your whole family was tragically killed by a drunk, disgraced politician and then your girlfriend dumped you’ scenario.

This part of Georgia, was not unlike the part of Georgia she had grown up in. Maybe a little bit more rural. It was small and had a lived-in feel to it.

Her social worker was a fairly nice lady, though her name had escaped Tara, but she didn’t turn the radio on in the car and Tara didn’t have a working set of headphones anymore, so she was left to listen to the whoosh of cars and the tapping of her fingers on her knees.

She was there before she knew it, papers were signed and hands were shaken and Tara was dumped out on the immaculate, suburban lawn of one Sargent Abraham Ford, who turned out to be a gigantic redheaded man with a handlebar moustache and a yellow wood paneled station wagon in the driveway next to his police cruiser.

It was a small, cramped neighborhood among farmlands. Nothing special, but nice.

All of Tara’s belongings fit into two bags, and Abraham Ford carried them in the house for her without a word. “Your room’s upstairs and to the right,” he said, as he led the way. “Mine’s at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

“All right.” There were pictures of two kids on the plain white walls, but no wife. She guessed divorced. Or maybe he just fostered kids a lot. Probably not, he didn’t really seem the type. “I appreciate it.”

He opened the door to what was now her bedroom and it was a small room, as sparse as the rest of the house.

“I bought some stuff for you, just essentials, didn’t know what you’d need or want.” He gave a noncommittal shrug and leaned in the doorway as she looked around. Wood desk, twin bed, white dresser, her own bathroom? That at least was a good deal. The goody bag Abraham had gotten was on the bed, full of embarrassing stuff like tampons, Q-tips, razors and toilet paper, but also candy, comic books, a pair of chunky blue headphones and an army green backpack.

“Thanks, this is great,” she said, immediately pulling out a red yoyo and trying to remember some tricks.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah, the social worker didn’t want to eat in her car.” She wrinkled her nose, remembering the noiseless and foodless drive across state.

“I assume you like pizza?”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?”

Abraham smiled at her then. “Take a shower or unpack or whatever and we’ll head out in thirty. Or do you need more time to get ready?” He didn’t seem aware of what level of grooming she would need. Tara guessed that was justified. Teenagers were vain (she wasn’t an exception), but she’d never been the most feminine of girls, so thirty minutes was plenty of time.

“Thirty is fine.”

It took her twenty minutes to fish out clothes that smelled all right and five minutes to shower and she came down the stairs with one minute to spare, her converse untied.

He was waiting by the door, keys in hand.

The woody station wagon was a growling beast. It didn’t move very fast, but she thought it was great, really.

“You know, when I saw you, you looked more like a big truck kind of guy,” she said, mostly just to fill the silence. The past few weeks had been nothing but silence and whispers and she’d never been someone who cared for silence and whispers.

“I hate trucks, really. Big trucks are a pain in the ass,” he said. “Wife took the van in the divorce, but I’d rather have this screaming metal deathtrap anyway.”

“Screaming metal deathtrap, I like that,” she said, but she still adjusted her seatbelt. “It’s what I’m going to call my folk band.”

He laughed under his breath. “Good choice.”

The pizza place was only five minutes down the road, at the edge of where town met the college campus at its epicenter. It was a quaint looking red bricked building and Tara felt immediately ill-at-ease. She liked the anonymity of the city, this was something new. Couldn’t they go down the road to a chain place?

They were seated at a booth by a tall guy about her age whose nametag said Noah.

“Anything except anchovies and olives,” was Tara’s only request for the pizza, and Abraham seemed to agree. They got pineapple and ham, which she’d rarely gotten, because Lilly hated it. But that wasn’t the right line of thought, because she wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the neighborhood pizza place about her sister’s least favorite pizza topping.

He had a beer and she had a Dr. Pepper.

“So, I know a lot about you from your file,” he said. “And I guess you don’t know much about me.”

“Retired military, current cop?” she offered. “Divorced, two kids. You look like you fought in the Civil War.”

Abraham seemed to find that funny. “That’s the long and short of it really. I was in the Army. Then I started a family, failed spectacularly, and here I am.” She liked that he didn’t talk to her like she was a kid, even though she really felt like one in the oversized booth across from this oversized guy. She wondered why’d he’d offered to take in some loser teenager with nowhere else to go. Maybe he was lonely? “The kids are at the house two weeks out of the month,” he added. “Becca and AJ.”

She nodded. “How old?”

“9 and 12.”

“Oh, you’re about to enter into some rough years,” she joked.

“Well that’s why you’re here. Test run.”

“I’m afraid you’re a couple of years too late, good sir. And I’m a very docile youth.” She smiled. She had never been socially active, not at her old school, and she didn’t plan on starting.

“Docile? I don’t believe it.” A plate of breadsticks came out before the pizza, and she immediately tore into them. “School starts in two weeks.”

“The social worker mentioned that. I’m a junior this year,” she said, just in case he didn’t know yet.

“Oh, so am I,” their waiter, the same boy from earlier (jeez, this place was small), said as the pizza finally arrived. “I’m Noah.”

“Tara,” she said, reaching up to shake his hand, not put off by the eavesdropping, as a consummately nosy person, she got the impulse.

“He’s a nice kid,” Abraham told her as he pulled off two slices. “He lives across the street from me.”

Tara raised an eyebrow. “Cool.” She busied herself eating a slice of pizza, not sure if she wanted to continue to talk about her potential friend-making shortcomings. She’d had friends, but only one or two, and then she’d dated one of them and that had ended. Now she wondered if she had any friends at all.

A man with a long white ponytail and a noticeable limp was seated at the table just across the way from them.

“Afternoon, Hershel,” Abraham said to the man. “Where’s Beth?”

“Parking that damn truck of hers. Takes up three spots on its own, I think,” the man said, laughing. “And I take it you’re Tara?” he said, turning his attention to Tara, who turned red and nodded, burning her mouth on some cheese.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, trying to smile and swallow at the same time.

A girl walked in and sat at Hershel’s table, a short girl with long blond hair pulled back away from her face. She looked over and smiled, and Tara’s face was burning even more. She was absolutely useless with pretty girls. So she forced a smile and turned back to her pizza, grateful when Noah blocked the girl from the edges of her sight when he went to take their order.


	2. i was scared of pretty girls

After two weeks, Tara thought she had the neighborhood memorized. It wasn’t home and never would be but she had given up her grief-driven refusal to like any place that wasn’t home. She was too tired of being sad, she just wanted to feel normal again.

Bob was the first person she met; he came by to drop off a few fresh tomatoes for Abraham (he resulting spaghetti was the best thing that Tara had ever eaten, even though she had nearly lost a finger trying to work Abraham’s pasta maker). Bob was a paramedic and former Army, which meant him and Abe got along splendidly.

Then Carol came by to welcome her to the neighborhood with a tray of cookies and a can of mace (“teenage boys are monsters, you have me for English third period, see you next week!”), her three blonde daughters trailing behind her. Two were adopted, orphans just like her, around Abraham’s real kids’ ages.

Tyreese was their next door neighbor, with his wife Karen and their three fat, spoiled cats (Plato, Aristotle and Socrates). She met the cats first, finding them all basking in the sun on the hood of Abraham’s wagon. Tyreese was easily three times Tara’s size, but something about his presence was comforting and gentle. (Abe explained he was a former college football player who now wrote children’s books, which was delightful.)

It came time to start school and she was riding the bus. Becca went to school earlier, being in elementary school, so Abraham took her on his way to work. Tara caught the same bus as 7th grader AJ. She sat in the very back, by herself and undisturbed all the way to school. She hated starting school, even in a school where she mostly knew everyone. Starting completely over in her junior year was the worst thing she could ever imagine.

When she got off of the bus, walking away from the parking lot that the middle and high school shared and towards the building that would rule her life for the next two years. She had been there a few days prior, finalizing from paperwork and getting her class schedule. It wasn’t any different than her old school. Same brick and linoleum combination, white cinderblock walls and tacky mascot painted everywhere.

She was there early, so she sat outside and watched cars slowly fill up the parking lot. A big yellow truck roared into the parking lot, taking one of the last remaining good parking spots close to the school. A blonde girl and a tall black boy – Noah, from the pizza place, she remembered – got out and walked up to the building. The girl was cute, and she was sure she had seen her before. Noah lived in her neighborhood, right across the street with his uncle and cousin, who was AJ’s age.

They walked right by her without paying her any mind, and she was actually kind of relieved. The girl was pretty. Hershel’s daughter, from the farm down the road. Abraham had mentioned it. She had seen her in the pizza shop. The thought made her blush all over again.

It didn’t matter.

Her day droned on, math first thing in the morning, followed by history. She was kind of looking forward to Ms. Carol’s English class in third period, because Carol seemed like a cool lady. She sat down in a seat by the window and waited for the rest of the class, who were all out talking to their friends, to come inside. Once the bell rang and everyone was in, Carol gave the same speech every teacher gave at the beginning of the semester.

“You’re going to have a project in this class, let me warn you,” she said to them. “A group project.” An exaggerated wave of groans rang out around the classroom and Tara sank down in her seat, dreading the mere idea of working with complete strangers. “I know, I know, quiet down. You’re going to be able to pick your groups, though. You each have to give a report on one novel and then do a presentation about it before the winter holiday. Then when you come back in January, you get to do the same thing with a new book. In class, we’ll be focusing on plays and poems, and you’ll do your two novels at home and teach the class about them.”

No one seemed sure of how to react to the whole thing, so there was just a rash of whispers and mutters.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to pick you group. Between 3 and 4 people in each.”

Tara sat there, eyeballing the class, sizing up who would be the best to approach and beg for inclusion. She didn’t have to, however, because Miss Big-Truck-Cut-Off-Shorts came over to her desk and smiled a million watt smile at her. “You’re new right?”

She nodded, a little taken aback.

“You can work with Noah and me if you want?” she offered, gesturing to her friend on the other side of the room.

“Oh, thanks, I…appreciate that,” Tara said, talking to the girl’s high top sneakers as she gathered up her stuff to move to sit with her new group. “I’m Tara, by the way,” she said, still not able to look right at the girl.

“Beth Greene. I live on the farm? You live with Sargent Ford, right?” she asked. “Daddy mentioned it.”

Normally Tara would cringe at a girl her age calling her dad ‘daddy’ but something about her Georgia twang and pretty gray eyes made it endearing instead of infantile. “Yeah, I do,” she said, sitting down and mumbling a hello to Noah.

“We got The Great Gatsby,” Noah told them, holding up the tattered paperback Ms. Peletier had given him. “Should be fun right?”

“Should be. It’s not very long, is it?” Beth said, holding her own copy up and frowning at the thin spine.

“Hey, less work for us to do, right?” Tara joked, feeling awkward and goofy.

Noah smiled. “Yeah, definitely.”

“We can meet up at my place to work on it?” Beth suggested. “Or at Noah’s work, eat pizza and work on the book.” She was looking so gentle and warm as she said it and made it hard to say anything in response. Tara wanted to bury her head in her books and not come back up until it was time for lunch. She was always such a mess around pretty girls, the only reason she’d gotten anywhere with Alisha was because Alisha had taken the initiative. And Beth was probably straight, so she was feeling completely weird for no reason.

“We could do Wednesdays maybe? I work on the weekends,” Noah said. “Rotate on where we meet?”

“Works for me, I’ll have the kids but Daddy can help with them while we’re working,” Beth said.

Kids? Tara frowned, trying to work out if Beth was a teen mom or something.

“Oh, I babysit for the neighborhood kids! I usually pick up AJ for school but I didn’t realize he was going to be home this week, tomorrow you two can ride with us,” she said with another smile in Tara’s direction. Tara could only really nod, because what else was there to say? She was grateful to not have to ride the bus.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” she said after a lengthy, awkward pause. “Do you guys have lunch next? No one in any of my other classes really talked to me…”

“Yeah, we actually do! One of my friends works in administration so I always try and make sure I get first lunch,” Beth said, winking. It was too much for Tara, who snorted with laughter and looked away. “I get snacky, okay.”

Tara kept laughing until Ms. Peletier called their attention to the front and started going over what other pieces they would be going over in class this year, and a quick rundown of their syllabus (which looked identical to the two other syllabi she’d gotten this morning), before dismissing them to lunch or their next class.

“So, what do you think of Abraham?” Noah asked her as they walked across the school’s tiny campus to the building where the cafeteria waited for them.

“He’s nice. A little gruff? But it’s better than being in a group home,” she said, automatically flinching after she did. People might not find that shit funny, Tara, jeez! “Sorry. Gallows’ humor.”

They both smiled gently at each other, and that was that. Tara was off the hook. Her social worker had always admonished her for being morbid, but sometimes it just came out. Really, she had never been like that before the accident.

A guy in black walked by and Beth waved to him, but he turned away almost immediately, not acknowledging her at all.

“Is he still pissed?” Noah asked, turning to watch him retreat.

“That was Zach,” Beth told Tara. “We dated over the summer and I broke it off with him so he’s kind of…” She shrugged, and Tara grimaced. A girl who wanted to think she could be friends with her exes. (Her male exes, which mostly solved that.) Tara hadn’t responded to any of Alisha’s texts in two months. “But whatever, I didn’t mean for him to take it personally. He’s more into his car than he ever was me, anyway.”

They all started laughing at that, and Beth started telling Tara all about her summer, as if she were an old friend who had just been gone for a while and needed to be caught up. It was hard to take her eyes off of Beth, who glowed with energy and charm, and it was lucky the girl was talking so much, or else she’d have no excuse to watch her so intently.


	3. you're gonna sing the words wrong

“I’m going to hang out at Beth’s,” she said to Abraham that Saturday. Beth was in two of her classes, Noah in three (her computer class that ended the day), and after five days she felt like she had actually made real friends.

He paused from reading the news and looked at her, scrutinizing her. “So, is this like, a friend thing, or like a date thing?” he asked. “Honestly. I’m not sure how to approach you hanging out with other girls.”

“It’s a friend thing, we live in Georgia,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Her older sister and some friends are coming up and we’re going swimming. If I start having untoward thoughts, I’ll bring myself right back, scout’s honor,” she added with a laugh.

Abraham laughed too. “I’ve got my eye on you, girl, behave yourself.”

“I always do,” she said, shifting the bag on her shoulder.

“Be home for dinner.”

“You got it.”

AJ was outside with his friend Duane from across the street, acting about as terrible as twelve year old boys were supposed to. She said bye to him and started down the street, to where the Greene farm joined up with the end of the cul-de-sac.

She was almost to the end of the driveway when a battered red Honda Civic flew out of nowhere and she dove to the side to avoid it. The car skidded to a stop and a guy just a couple of years older than her jumped out.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he said, helping her up. She could barely breathe, but nodded, wiping off her scraped knee. It didn’t hit her until moments like this that cars had killed her family, and she wanted to cry, but instead she let the boy help her up. “I’m just delivering some pizza…”

“I was just going to see my friend,” she said with a shaky laugh, wiping her eyes and pointing down the driveway.

“Oh, Beth?” he asked. “Do you want me to drive you down there? It’s the least I could do…” He was rambling a little, nervous standing there in his cut off shorts and tank top. “I’m Glenn, I delivery pizza for Gino’s.”

“I’m Tara, I go to school with Beth and Noah,” she said, hobbling over to the passenger’s seat, her heart still pounding as she forced herself into it. It was just down the driveway, she was fine. Deep breaths.

Glenn seemed desperate to distract her with small talk, casting unsure eyes at her. “Beth’s a great kid. I deliver here a lot. We talk. You new in town?”

“Yeah. I live with Sargent Ford?”

“Oh! Cool!” he said. The drive down to the farmhouse was quick, Beth was on the porch and looked baffled when she jumped out of the car. “I’m sorry I almost ran over your pal,” he said as he fumbled with a couple of pizza boxes.

“I should take out your tip for that,” Beth said, a little petulant as she paid him and took the food. She stilled tipped him.

“I’m fine,” Tara said hastily, trying to obscure her scraped knee and elbow.

“We can clean it inside before we go down to swim,” she said, and Tara followed her inside to the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the table with a cane leaned up against his chair and a prosthetic leg beside it.

“It was itching,” he said, gesturing to the leg.

“Tara fell down, could we get some Neosporin or something?” Beth asked him with a gamely smile. Tara smiled too, trying to play off her throbbing knee.

“First Aid kit’s under the sink, Maggie moved it,” he said. “Easy to reach.”

Beth retrieved the kit and steered Tara into a free chair, kneeling down and dabbing a wet papertowel on the scrapes before slathering it with the antibacterial cream. It was cold and gross but she let it happen, a little sheepish at the being babied.

“It’s nice to properly meet you, Tara,” Hershel Greene said, extending a hand to shake. Tara shook his hand and smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

“As if I’m allowed to tell Beth no,” Hershel joked gently, and Beth giggled as she stood up.

“Let’s get down there, everyone is waiting!” she said. They took their pizza and walked through the farm house. It was a quaint place, as if the word ‘quaint’ had been invented just for it. Pictures of family were everywhere. Behind the house were two large barns and a pasture with cows peacefully grazing. They walked down a little past the barns to where a small pond lay at the bottom of a hill. There were already people sitting around, with a cooler full of drinks.

“Hey everybody, Tara’s here!” Beth called, as if that meant anything to anyone except Noah, who was in nothing but swim trunks, sprawled out on the ground beside a massive, shaggy dog. “That’s my big sister Maggie,” she said, pointing to a dark haired girl lying on a blanket with two other girls. “And her roommates Sasha and Rosita. They live in Atlanta right now,” she concluded. “This is Tara, she’s new and lives with Abraham.”

“Oh, you live with Baberaham? Lucky!” Rosita shouted with a laugh.

Tara turned red. “He’s not really my type, being like, my guardian and also a dude,” she said, looking at the ground.

No one said anything, and the day went on.

“Do you want a water or a soda? Maggie brought beer, which you can have if you want,” Beth said, pulling off her shorts and tank top to reveal a bright yellow bikini, which was hard not to look at. It would be rude to stare, though.

“Water would be good,” she said, forcing a smile and sitting down on one of the spread out blankets. “I like your dog…” she added as Beth handed her a bottle of water.

“Oh, Reggie? He’s great, I love him to death,” she said. Reggie, hearing his name, trotted over to where they sat and flopped down right beside Tara, rolling over and presenting his belly for scratches. “He’s some kind of sheepdog mix. I don’t really know.”

Tara rubbed him and he beat his tail against the ground happily. “You’re a good boy,” she told him.

Someone walked up from out of the pond, a guy in his midthirties, shirtless except for a pair of soaked shorts, his shaggy hair sticking to his face. Rosita and Sasha whistled at him.

“Put some clothes on, Daryl, you’re making me look bad!” Noah complained as Beth tossed the newcomer a towel.

“Daryl, come here,” she demanded in a sweet voice. “This is my new friend Tara, from up the road. This is Daryl, he and his brother work on the farm since Daddy’s injury,” she informed Tara.

Daryl walked up, drying off his not unimpressive physique. “Hey,” he said. “Nice to meet you,” he added after Beth cleared her throat pointedly. Maggie threw him a beer and he caught it easily, nudging Reggie with his foot and wandering off.

“Loquacious, isn’t he?” Tara said before she could stop herself. Everyone laughed, and she realized she didn’t have to second guess everything that came out of her mouth. She was among friends, for once.

Beth started strumming her guitar, and Tara thought she was about to endure some sad country song, but then all of the girls (and Noah) broke into a rousing rendition of ‘5000 Candles in the Wind’, and Tara couldn’t stop herself from singing along.


	4. it feels good to be alone with you

“I can’t believe I have to ask this but, uhm, Abraham, could you take me shopping this weekend?” Tara asked over dinner on a Thursday. The issue had started earlier that day when Beth pointed out that the homecoming/back to school dance (they had been at school for almost a month now) was coming up. She’d asked Tara so casually if she meant to go, and looked wounded when she’d said no. So she’d agreed to go with Beth and Noah as a friend trio.

“Why?”

“I need clothes for a dance,” she said into her peas.

“Well, I’ll be dicked. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“ _Thanks_. I never went to these things at my old school.”

“It’s good you made friends. I don’t know what I would do if you just hung around here all the time,” he said, laughing at his own joke.

“Yeah I don’t think I could have lived with having to look at your face all the time,” she shot back, the kind of stupid dad joke her own father had always used on her, but the memory of it was happier than it might have been weeks ago. Her social worker had mentioned how grief always fades.

The mall on Saturday was packed, as was to be expected, and Tara recognized a lot of people from her high school in the crowds, but they paid no mind to her. She did, however, run into Abraham’s son AJ, Duane, Carol’s daughter Sophia and another neighborhood boy, Carl, trolling around the arcade.

“Hey Dad do you have any quarters?” AJ asked when they caught sight of him and Tara.

“Did your mother drop you off?” Abraham asked, fishing in his pockets for change, looking around as though his ex-wife might drop down from the ceiling onto him shrieking.

“No, Sherriff Rick is around here with the babies,” AJ said, gesturing vaguely. “And Ms. Michonne.”

“Oh good, well, be careful.”

Tara wandered off into one of the stores, Abraham opting to go buy his weight in soft pretzels and play with Ms. Michonne’s chubby, adorable five year old son, who Tara had met while helping Beth babysit a few nights ago while they worked on their project.

Tara looked through racks of dresses, contemplating if she even wanted to bother with one. She had never really been a fan of wearing them, and they honestly reminded her of funerals. So she abandoned her dress search for a button up shirt and a pair of nice pants. Hunting for a pair of comfortable shoes was even harder, but she managed to find one and come under her Abraham-imposed budget.

Taking a pretzel from Abe, she shifted her purchases around and broke a piece off. “Did you get honey mustard?” she asked, but before the sentence left her mouth he’d presented her with a little container of her preferred condiment.

Beth picked her up for dinner before the dance, and she promised she’d get back before midnight (“unless I’ve turned into a pumpkin and then there’s just no telling what time I’ll get back!”) as she hurried out to meet her, sliding into the cab of the enormous truck, squishing Noah in the middle of the two girls.

“You both look really nice,” she said, noticing Beth’s short blue dress and Noah’s shirt the same color.

“You look nice too!” Beth said. “I’m so excited.”

They got burgers down the road from the school before finally getting there. It was surprisingly packed. Tara had always thought that school dances were for the sexually active and/or the desperate, but it seemed like almost everyone had shown up.

The music was bouncy and poppy.

“The football team won,” Beth informed them. “Pretend you were at the game if anyone asks,” she added with a cutesy little wink.

Tara stood off to the side, watching everyone bounce around and admiring everyone’s dresses and shoes until Noah dragged her onto the floor.

“You have to actually dance with us,” he said. It turned out that Noah wasn’t a great dancer, and neither was Beth, but that made Tara feel a lot less self-conscious, and it was easy for the three of them to get lost in the silly pop song and not care that they were all collectively making fools of themselves.

After a while, they had to take a break. Tara ate too many cookies and Noah threw back punch, which she was surprised no one had spiked until she saw that Carol was on punch duty. It seemed like, wisely, no one crossed her.

Beth was dancing with Jimmy, a cowboy boat wearing farmboy in Tara’s math class, until a slower song came on and they broke away a little awkwardly. Jimmy walked off and Beth came back to Tara, grinning. “Wanna dance?”

“Me?” Tara squeaked, looking around, but Noah was dancing with Amy Harrison, so she had to have been talking to her.

“Yeah, you!” Beth insisted, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her onto the floor. Tara at least knew how to slow dance, so she didn’t let herself get flustered when Beth had her hands on her hips. It was just dancing, it didn’t mean anything. “You know, I’m so glad you moved here.”

“Me too,” she said before even thinking about it. She wasn’t and she was. It was more complicated than the sunshiney feelings that Beth inspired in her, and a school dance wasn’t the time or place. “Glad I met you and Noah, at least.”

They were just spinning in a stupid little circle.

“This is fun,” Beth said.

“It’s not really my scene, but on the bright side, I think everyone knows I’m a lesbian now,” she said. A girl near them choked on her punch with poorly restrained laughter and Tara blushed a little.

“Really? You think they can tell?”

“The dress pants don’t help my image, really,” she joked. She had never made a big deal of her sexuality because she’d been truly lucky enough to grow up with a family that never judged. Her classmates had been equal parts disgusting and awful but really, overall, other than the one time she got a slushie thrown on her, her life had been easier than most people’s.

Beth laughed with her, when she saw that it was a joke. They danced a few more times and by the time it was time to head home, they stopped to get midnight milkshakes and Noah fell asleep and almost spilled his all over his dress shirt.

“Night, Beth,” she said as she slid out of the truck, jostling Noah gently to wake him up and tell him he was home.

“Night, Tara,” Beth said with a smile that gave Tara way too much hope.


	5. i've got a lump in my throat

The final barbeque of summer was a spectacular event. Everyone, even people Tara hadn’t formally met yet, had come out. Abraham was running one grill, and on the other side of the cul de sac, Rick Grimes had the other. The story was that the summer before, Rick and Abe had a terrible fight over who got to run the grill, and it had turned into a summer long war.

But today it was all smiles. So many people introduced themselves to her that she was having trouble keeping track; there was Aaron and Eric from across the way, Aaron owned the comic book store that she and Noah had gone to a few times, Daryl’s gravel-voiced brother Merle, Father Gabriel from two neighborhoods over, Amy from school and her older sister Andrea, who had dated Michonne for a long time. The split was amicable. Michonne kept the house and Andrea kept the dog.

Then there was Abraham’s friend Eugene. He struck an eccentric figure in cargo shorts and a mullet. He taught science at the middle school, and was a complete nerd. Tara actually really liked him, surprisingly.

“Tara, how are you doin’ today?” he asked in that familiar Texas drawl that Rosita occasionally slipped into as well.

“Good!” she replied, smiling as Abraham poured a generous helping of chili onto her hotdog and sent her to find her friends so they could talk about adult stuff (AKA objectify women and talk sports. Tara was good at both! Not really, but she pretended).

Aaron and Daryl were talking about motorcycles when she passed by. Rick, the Sherriff and head of the neighborhood watch, laughed at something Carol told him while his toddler daughter pulled on Tyreese’s hat a few feet away.

“Hey Sasha,” she said, mouth unflatteringly full of hot dog as she passed Tyreese’s younger sister, talking to Karen about smart people stuff, she was sure.

“Hey Tara, how’s the chili?”

“Good! Bob made it,” she said. Bob totally had the hots for Sasha, so she’d been trying to talk him up a little.

Beth was on her third jalapeno covered turkey burger when Tara got back to where she and Noah and Amy had camped out, watching the kids play tag and fly kites. Lizzie and Sophia were the two oldest girls in the group and Sophia seemed to be calling most of the shots.

“So I think we should watch that Gatsby movie that came out a year or two ago,” Beth said in between too-huge bites of her burger. “And maybe gets some ideas to give our presentation some razzle dazzle.”

“Ah, the ole razzle dazzle,” Tara said with a friendly eye roll.

“Come on, you know I’m right.”

“I know, I know,” she said. Once she’d finished her hot dog, she realized that she’d left her drink over at Abraham’s grill, and she really needed it.  “I gotta go get my water, I’ll be back,” she said, getting up from the picnic table and crossing the road to rejoin Abraham.

Eugene was gesticulating wildly when she got over, talking about a new betting scheme that they were going to use to make money off of football games, which seemed unethical considering Abe was a cop, but hey, she didn’t know much about anything.

She grabbed her water glass just as Eugene accidentally whacked it with the back of his hand and it crashed the ground. Without thinking about it, she grabbed a few shards, trying to clean up the mess, but all she ended up doing was cutting her hand.

It didn’t hurt, but she immediately felt her stomach twist as she looked at the bright splatter of red dropping onto the white pavement. The pavement had shimmered the day of the accident, too.

Then Tara collapsed, her head hitting something soft as someone shouted at her.

She opened her eyes a minute later, with Sasha and Bob both kneeling over her, Abraham standing by close, watching her intently.

“Tara, can you hear me?” Bob asked, sounding oddly authoritative as he spoke.

“Yes,” she said, her stomach still feeling sick.

“What’s your name?”

“Tara Vivenne Chambler,” she said.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he concluded, holding up a peace sign.

“Two.”

Abraham helped her sit up all the way, and Sasha gave her a plastic cup of water that she took a hesitant sip, and then taped the bandage on her hand closed and gave her a small smile.

“Let’s get you back to the house,” he said, basically lifting her off the ground himself, but being nice enough to let her pretend she could still use her legs as they walked down the street to the house. “I didn’t know you were scared of blood.”

“I’m just a little squeamish, that’s never happened before,” she said in a faint voice.

“It’s good that Sasha and Bob are trained for this kind of shit.”

“Tell them thank you for me, okay?” Tara said as she collapsed onto the couch. “You don’t have to stay and watch me, I’m just going to sit here, I promise I’ll be okay,” she told him when he went to sit down.

Abraham frowned. “I’ll be back soon. Eugene could burn water and I left him at the grill.” He ruffled her hair and walked out the front door again. It was cracked enough that Tyreese’s fat cat, Plato, decided to investigate, and Tara let him come up and sit with her.

A few minutes later the door opened up again.

“Abraham, I said I was okay!” she protested, but Beth and Noah walked in and sat with her, pulling Plato off of Tara’s lap.

“We thought we’d keep you company while you recovered,” Noah said. Tara’s face went red and she tried to hide it in her hands.

“We’re going to watch the movie and just chill, okay?” Beth told her in a sweet, soothing voice. “I’m just relieved you’re okay.”

“Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it.”


	6. no better version of me i could pretend to be

The idea for a Gatsby party had, predictably, been Beth’s. It was the end of the semester and the Greene’s back yard was all lit up, people from their class and a few of Maggie’s friends milling around in secondhand store-bought 20s dresses and gaudy headbands. Tara was playing the Gatsby, in a Goodwill salvaged pinstripe suit that must have been for a 12 year old boy, and smelled about as good as one.

She drifted around the party, calling people old sport and wondering when the punch would end up spiked.

It was an extra credit opportunity, and someone from the yearbook had come to take pictures of the whole ordeal before it became overly debauched.

“Hey, I talked to Aaron the other day and he said he was looking for some help around the shop,” Noah said to her as they nibbled on modest cheese platters. “I’ve got the job at the pizza place and Beth has her babysitting, so I told him I’d ask if you wanted to apply, maybe.”

“That would be great actually!” As a foster kid, she did get a stipend, but she split it with Abraham to cover food and put as much as she could into a jar Beth had decorated for her. All in all, it wasn’t great for pocket money. “I like that place.”

“I know Aaron likes to organize like…gay events?” Noah didn’t seem sure of how to phrase that, but Tara smiled at his effort. “And I thought maybe you could meet a new girlfriend or something,” he added.

Beth floated up in her periphery and she shrugged. “I’m not really hunting for a girlfriend right now, you know? But I did kind of like having people like me to hang out with.”

“I was kind of thinking of going,” he added in a hesitant voice.

Tara raised an eyebrow.

“It’s complicated,” he added with a shrug.

“That’s a real good way to put it, buddy.” She smiled and shoved another cracker in her mouth, looking at Noah, scrutinizing him. He wasn’t gay, she knew that, but hell, she guessed he could be bi. She wasn’t sure if dudes were ever really bi or not. Surely, they were. Anybody could be anything, right?

Beth came over in her Daisy dress and expertly curled hair, grinning. She leaned in candidly. “Once it gets late, Daryl brought moonshine,” she said in a thrilled whisper.

That could only spell disaster, but as the sun fell and the bonfire grew, people filtered out and the few left were invited to pass the bottle around and take a sip of the noxious shit. Tara had never been a big drinker, but she had her fair share. More and more people left, and eventually only Tara, Beth, Noah, Rosita, Maggie, and Sasha were left. Maggie and her friends left earlier, having plans to go to a bar. Tara was shocked it was only 11, they had started early to give the impression of a wholesome high school theme party, and really most people were going for the extra credit Carol had offered them.

“I’m gonna go pass out,” Noah said a while later, slurring a little. “Need help putting out the fire?”

“No, we can handle it,” Beth said with a sleepy grin, her head on Tara’s shoulder. “See you inside.”

They sat there for a little while. Tara was pleasantly buzzed, but she could feel sleep pulling at her a little too, so she looked around for the water bucket they had put out for when it was time to douse the fire and go inside. Reggie was lying on his back with his legs stuck out at weird angles, snoring into the wind.

“This was pretty fun,” Tara said. She sat up a little straighter and noticed that Beth’s flapper dress couldn’t be warm as their bonfire guttered out, so she shrugged out of her suit coat and draped it over her shoulders.

As she started to lean away, Beth moved up and kissed her on the mouth.

It was a weird kiss, a little sloppy and awkward, as first kisses tended to be. It went on for an amount of time that Tara could not have pinpointed. Maybe decades. Moonshine and a relaxing night made this seem so much less complicated than it truly was, so when Beth pulled back Tara kept leaning forward until she very nearly fell face first into the ground.

“I’m sorry, I should get some sleep,” was all Beth said after a pause, throwing the water on the fire and rousing Reggie to follow her back up to the barn. Tara took her flashlight and instead of returning to the Greene house to face her wrecked dignity, she decided to just go ahead and walk back to her house.

She cursed herself as a fool a hundred times. She had no business kissing Beth Greene and Beth Greene had no business initiating those kisses.

Abraham’s bedroom light was on, so she tried to sneak in quietly, but ended up tripping over a boot left in the middle of the entryway.

On the floor, eye level with the offending pair of shoes, she realized she recognized them.

They were most definitely Rosita’s shoes.

Gross. Gross. Gross.

Tara groaned and finally made it to bed, completely deflated after what had been a happy night. She picked up her phone and, out of spite mostly, thought of deleting one of the most recent selfies she and Beth had taken together. But she couldn’t do that. It’s not like she was going to throw away their entire friendship.

She just needed to sulk for a few days, that was all. That felt fair.


	7. all i want to get is just a little bit closer

Sulking for a few days was easy. After finals, she didn’t have to go to school and see Beth. Noah knew something was up when they barely spoke those last few days, but maybe he attributed it to stress from exams. It wasn’t until the Friday that winter break began that he finally called her out.

“Where have you been?” he all but snapped into the phone when she answered. “It’s the end of semester get together and we’re not got together!”

“I’m sick,” she lied.

“I don’t buy that. What happened? I thought we were friends!”

“We are friends!” she said hastily. How could she explain that she was just trying to repair her wounded dignity and not sound completely pathetic? She had replayed the kiss in her head a thousand times, thinking of how stupidly enthusiastic she had gotten and how freaked out Beth had looked. “It’s complicated. I’ll be around. Want to go to Aaron’s place tomorrow?” she asked, a last ditch effort to distract him.

“Sure,” he said, still sounding wary.

“Why aren’t you out with your friends?” Abraham asked. She was sure she could smell Rosita’s perfume on him, and that was another problem. How do you react to your not-dad banging your cool older sister figure? On the one hand, they were both consenting adults, but on the other hand, gross. “Don’t tell me you’re turning into a loser, I can’t live with that shit.”

She laughed. “No, just felt like taking some chill time.”

“Well, you can talk to me if something’s up,” he said, shrugging, like it was just no big deal. It wasn’t a big deal to Abraham. He wasn’t exactly sentimental, but he was a nice enough guy under the shit talk.

“Abe?” she said, suddenly, picking at a loose thread on her comforter. “Well, like, say you liked someone and sometimes you thought they liked you back? But then they did something that made you feel like crap? What do you do?”

“Find someone who knows if they like you and doesn’t make you feel like crap,” he said.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Well, shit, I guess not,” he said with a sympathetic frown. “But just because you might have slim pickins doesn’t mean you need to wait around for someone who’s upsetting you.”

“Yeah, thanks Abraham.”

He didn’t say anything, just walked off to do whatever middle aged men do in their free time. Think about fishing, maybe?

She couldn’t tank her friendship with Beth just because of one, albeit embarrassing, misstep. Abe was right, she was just going to have to get over this crush.

The next day she met up with Noah and they rode their bikes up to the comic book store. (She borrowed a bike from Noah’s little cousin, actually) Aaron was at the counter reading a book, his feet kicked up on the glass.

“Hey!” he said, looking up over what his book. “How’s it going?”

“Good, uh, you know, are you still looking for help? Noah mentioned it a while back and then some stuff happened and I forgot,” she said, leaning on the counter.

Aaron smiled. “Yeah, definitely. Eric’s been helping, but he doesn’t know anything about comic books, so he’s pretty much useless,” he said, rummaging around under the counter. “Here’s an application. Just fill it out and I’ll give you a call back later.”

“Thanks,” she said, ushering Noah to a table. She sat down and filled out the simple, one page application.

“I know what happened,” Noah said, unsure. “Beth told me…”

Tara felt a little cold as her pen stopped mid-address. “It’s not a big deal,” she said, her face burning as she stared a hole in the little piece of paper.

“She’s really sorry, you know. If you’d answer her texts you’d know that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she repeated, a little louder. “And I don’t really want to talk about it, you know? It was just embarrassing.” That wasn’t really all it had been, but she wasn’t going to go into the nuances of her hurt feelings with Noah.

“I don’t think she meant to…”

The bell jangled loudly and they both looked up, Beth walking inside with her knitted hat slouching on her head, and she spotted them immediately. Her cheeks were a little flushed as she walked over.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Noah said, sliding out a chair for her. “How’s it going?”

“Good, you guys?”

“Pretty good,” Tara said, refusing to make eye contact as she finished her application and took it up to Aaron, attempting a poker face she wasn’t even very good at. When she sat back down, she looked at Noah. “You know Holly, from computer class?” she asked.

“Yeah? What about her?”

“What’s her deal? Do you know? I thought I might ask her to froyo,” she said. It was a little petty, but not insincere. Holly seemed really cool, and there was no use pining. Maybe it was rude to say it right in front of her, but she was straight, so it wasn’t like it mattered.

“I’m not sure,” he said, glancing at Beth and clearing his throat loudly. “You guys want pizza? It’s on me!” he said, as though to diffuse the tension.

Beth was frowning. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Tara, I was getting worried.”

“Feeling a little under the weather,” Tara lied. “But I’m back in action.” She grinned as widely as she could, trying her best to fix everything.

Pizza was uneventful, but by the end it felt like they were settling back into old patterns, and she didn’t feel squirmy and uncomfortable every time she looked at Beth. It was like having her friend back, and she was grateful.

That evening, full of pizza and between-semesters reading, Tara was dozing in her room.

Then there was a tap at her window.

And another.

Being on the second floor, her mind instantly jumped to ghosts.

It was just a very small rock.

Being wielded by a very small girl framed in the street light, her jacket and scarf bundled up over her. Snow was starting to fall.

“Beth?”

“Hey,” she called, looking sheepish. “Look, uh, don’t ask Holly to froyo.”

“Do you want to come inside?” Tara asked, her face growing hot. “Abraham is out with Rosita.” They both laughed for a second, and Beth walked around the side of the house, Tara following her lead to let her inside.

Beth toed out of her boots at the doorway.

“I’m sorry, I was so weird,” Beth blurted out immediately. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Frowning, Tara shut the door. “I mean…” She didn’t see how that connected to not getting Froyo with Holly.

“I should have done it right. I’m just…I’m not sure what’s going on with me,” she said, sounding a little helpless, which made Tara feel increasingly bad as she watched Beth blush and fumble over her words. “I’ve never really liked a girl before.”

“Oh.”

“But I like you.”

Tara stepped up and kissed her, that time, because it was clear neither of them had much else to say.


	8. nobody has to know

The weekends were the busiest time, so Tara was juggling ten year olds and college-aged hipsters coming in to ask her opinion on this or that (the kids were polite, college-aged dudes were dicks, but Aaron frequently swooped in to save her from enduring it), so it was a relief to have thirty minutes to run across the street and get a sandwich, and even better when she stepped out of the store and saw Beth with lunch in hand already.

“Awesome, I’m starving,” she said. They sat down on a bench and Beth started pulling napkins and food out of the bag. “How’s it going?” she added, nudging Beth with her shoulder and grinning. Beth, being the least experienced in the situation, was dictating the pace. Tara wasn’t going to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with.

“We should have a dinner with my sister tonight,” Beth said. “So we can tell her…” She put a hand on Tara’s.

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” It had only been two weeks, they hadn’t even told anyone at school other than Noah, because in such a small town word traveled so quickly, so Tara was a little shocked that she wanted to make the jump and tell Maggie so soon.

She hadn’t even really told Abraham, but she was sure he’d picked up on it by now.

“We can do it at Abraham’s place. Is your dad going to come?”

Beth grimaced. “No…I just…kind of wanted to start small.”

Tara understood, she really did. Her sister had been the first person she’d told, too, and it was the easiest step. She couldn’t deny the slightest bit of impatience, if only because not being able to hold Beth’s hand at school pulled at the romantic in her in a bad way.

“Take your time, I’m on your team,” Tara said, finishing her sandwich in two big bites. “I should probably get back though.” She kissed Beth (who protested about Tara’s onion breath) on the cheek and got up to leave.

“Thanks for being on my team, T,” Beth called after her and Tara couldn’t help the giddy grin that overtook her face. She was such a sap. Happiness was such a new feeling after the summer. Winter was here and it was wonderful.

She called Abraham when the shop was quiet.

“Could we have a few people over for dinner tonight?” she asked him.

“Sure, who you thinking?”

“Beth, Maggie, Noah, maybe Sasha, anyone else you’d wanna invite obviously.”

She held her breath for the answer.

“Sure thing. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing too special. Just a thought I had,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I appreciate it. I don’t know what to make, but I’ll figure it out by the time I get home.”

Abraham laughed. “Shit, this is a last minute sort of dinner party, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling sheepish. “Any preferences?”

“Nah, we’ll figure something out. See you this evenin’.”

“I really appreciate it, Abe,” she said. “See ya.” Then she hung up and got back to work, unable to keep her grin in check. Telling Maggie made it feel real. She was really, for serious, completely dating Beth Greene and they were going to actually tell people. She texted Noah about coming to dinner, and then told a very precocious 10 year old girl which Spiderman comic was her favorite.

“You look happy,” Aaron noted with a satisfied smirk of his own.

“It’s just a good day, okay?” she replied, then she figured it wouldn’t hurt to get his advice. “What’s a good dinner for your girlfriend coming out?” She guessed that’s what it was. She wasn’t much of a cook so she hadn’t done anything cutesy like bake a cake when she’d told her dad or sister, so this was a different approach.

“Just not spaghetti. I came out over spaghetti and my dad threw it up. Just out of surprise, he always had a weak stomach.” He flapped a hand idly, and laughed at the memory. She laughed too, because all in all Aaron was a very well-adjusted guy.

“All right. That’s easy enough.” She was thinking burgers, or maybe tacos! Abraham was from Texas, he knew all about Mexican food. Or maybe that was the opposite. She’d have to ask him. Tara went about her day, her brain pinballing between excited and terrified as she waited, and waited.

And then suddenly, just about when she was planning to leave, the store was overrun with a bunch of little league ball players coming out of a game, ready to reward their victory with a comic book. And she texted Abe ‘gonna be a lil late’ and buckled down to help Aaron with the posse of mini-people.

“Sorry if this cuts into your plans,” Aaron told her apologetically.

“It’s fine, you need my help here more than Abe needs me in the kitchen. I’m useless there,” she said, not able to resist glancing at her phone to check the time.

Once the kids were gone, she was packed up and ready to leave. Sasha was waiting outside in her jeep.

“I’m here to give you a ride,” she said, helping Tara into the monstrosity of a jeep. “Abe sent me.”

“Wow, thanks. I appreciate it.” She smiled and Sasha kind of smiled in return, the way Sasha only really kind of smiled. “Sooooo,” she said, purposefully drawing out the word. “Have you asked Bob out yet?”

“What? No!”

“Why not? He’s so clearly into you. Is this like a career rivalry thing? Firefighters and paramedics, forever at war?” It was a little dramatic, but it was enough to get a real smile out of Sasha, who was blushing and shaking her head.

“Just haven’t gotten around to it, I guess.”

They talked about more stuff on the way home, though it was a short drive, just joking and goofing off. When they pulled up to Abraham’s place, Beth’s big yellow truck was already in the driveway. “Is Maggie here yet?” she asked.

“No, she had to work today and is on the way.”

Tara breathed a sigh of relief as she jumped down out of the jeep. She wasn’t too late, she wouldn’t miss the important stuff.

“Sorry I’m la –” She stopped short because dinner was basically done already, and it smelled great.

“Tacos!” Beth called, from where she was sitting on one of the counters.

“You read my mind.”

The works were set out on the table, ready for their guests. Noah was playing with Reggie in the living room, and Eugene was petting one of Tyreese’s cats, who must have broken in at an opportune moment.

“Plato, what the hell are you doing?” Sasha asked the cat, who purred. “This isn’t your house.” The cat just purred louder, trying to drown her out.

“Cats have always been quite fond of me,” Eugene said. “Never figured out why.” Plato agreed, rubbing his head on Eugene’s chin.

Tara should have figured Abe would invite Eugene but it feels weird to her, and she catches Beth’s eye and shrugs, the slightest of apologies. Beth just grins through it. After all, she brought her dog, so weird company just wasn’t going to be an issue.

“Maggie’s here!” Beth practically sang as she dropping off the counter and zoomed around the table, making sure nothing was out of place. Then she walked over to the door, before appearing to remember that this wasn’t her house, so she let Abraham answer the door, giving Maggie a hug.

“I brought Glenn, I hope no one minds,” she said immediately, Glenn the pizza boy who had nearly run Tara over with his hatchback shuffling in behind her.

“Not a problem. Eugene, we need another chair!” Abraham shouted, and Eugene dropped Plato the cat and went about procuring another chair. It was a foldup lawn chair, which made Glenn very short when he sat down. The whole table was circled by a mismatched set of chairs, and it added to the weird charm of the evening. Rosita, Sasha, Maggie and Glenn sat on one side of the table, and Tara, Beth and Noah sat on the other side, with Abraham and Eugene at either end.

They started assembling tacos immediately, Reggie down at Tara’s side trying to plead an avocado or really anything off of her. She tried to resist, but had to toss him a piece of chicken eventually, because for a giant fur-covered monster dog, he was pretty cute when he begged.

“Right, so,” Beth started, casting a meaningful look at Tara as she finished her sixth (SIXTH!) taco. “I actually uhm, well, Maggie particularly, I wanted you to come by because,” she cleared her throat awkwardly as she spoke. “I mean…”

Tara put a hand on her knee, but avoided looking at her. She didn’t want to give it away before Beth actually said it, that wouldn’t help.

“Me and Tara are dating!” she blurted out finally, taking a really deep breath now that she’d said it.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Maggie said, not missing a beat, her eyebrows only slightly furrowed. “Me and Glenn are dating, too.”

Then both Greene sisters started laughing for no reason, and everyone else just kind of finished their dinner, unsure of how to react. Tara wasn’t even hungry anymore, she was so relieved. It was a good, big first step that meant a lot of things.

Abraham slapped her on the shoulder fondly, like she’d just hit a really good homerun, or something.

She smiled, Beth smiled, and then Maggie frowned.

“Is that why you set up this dinner on a night you knew Daddy had a meeting?” she asked shrewdly, and Beth shrank in her seat a little.

“One step at a time,” Tara offered, with a little shrug. “That’s how I did it, at least.”

Beth’s look of gratitude was all she needed to keep talking.


	9. sit back, watch it burn and rust

But weeks past and the prospect of telling Hershel still lingered, but wasn’t really something she brought up. She wanted to be public, she wanted to hang out at Beth’s house without walking on eggshells, but she also wanted what was best for Beth, and sometimes coming out wasn’t always what was best.

So Tara waited.

“Prom is coming up,” Beth pointed out as signs and banners started going up.

“In two _months,”_ Tara shot back, rolling her eyes.

“Still, tickets are on sale now and people will start looking at dresses…” Beth reasoned. “Will you go with me?”

“Oh, well duh.”

“Prom just doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“If you want to do it, then it’s my thing,” Tara said, smiling. Prom wasn’t her thing, no more than homecoming had been. Dancing in general, it really wasn’t Tara’s forte, but she’d endure. She’d probably have a great time, really.

“I’ll definitely have told him by then, I promise.”

“By prom?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, you’ve been really patient with me.”

“It’s only been a month or so, I don’t think you need to rush it. I know you’re worried, but your dad seems like a great guy.”

“Yeah, but he’s also a religious guy. He’s never…said anything like that before,” she said, faltering immediately. “But you never know? It’s not like I’ve ever brought it up, I always felt a little…wrong before now. But now it makes sense, and I’m scared to share it.”

Noah dropped down beside them and the conversation ended there.

“How’s it going?” he asked, biting into his apple, the only part of the school lunch that remotely resembled actual food.

“Good, just talking prom.”

“Amy Harrison wants to go with me, but I’m not sure. I’m not that into the whole…fluid exchange.” He made a vague hand gesture and wrinkled his nose.

“Just tell her that, I’m sure she won’t care,” Tara said. “And if she does, she’s not worth going with anyway.” She ate a french fry with a sage nod at Noah, who grinned in response.

“Love Doctor Tara, I like it,” he joked.

“If I’m a doctor now, then that advice costs five hundred bucks.”

“Real pricey from the girl with a fake doctorate!” he said dramatically. Beth gasped, keeping up the ruse.

“You’ve exposed me, I’ll have to get rid of you!” she said, making a gun with her hand. “Bang!”

He put his hand to his chest and slumped to the table, and then rose back up laughing as the bell rang for their next class.

That night at dinner, she asked about prom tickets.

“Yeah, what are they?” Abraham asked.

“I don’t know, like 20 bucks?” she said, shrugging. She’d have to text Beth, but Abe had a ‘no goddamn fucking phones at fucking dinner’ rule (not his specific wording but she thought the swearing made it sound more like him), so it would wait. “It should be fun.”

“Are you going with your girlfriend?” Becca asked, in that mocking pitch only a 10 year old could properly manage, like just saying it would give Tara a case of super cooties.

“Yeah, of course.”

AJ moodily rolled his eyes. The teen angst would be strong with this one. Tara laughed, and Becca laughed, and it was nice, because Tara had grown up as the baby of the family, and now she wasn’t.

“Gross,” AJ said.

“Who would you go to prom with, AJ? Carl?”

He rolled his eyes again.

The next day at school, Tara and Beth both got called to the principal’s office during Ms. Peletier’s class, and Carol looked like she had a serious problem with it as they left the room in the middle of a discussion of religious imagery in _Les Miserables._

The principal was a scrawny necked man with big glasses.

“Girls,” he said, clearing his throat. “A parent just called to complain that one of you tried to buy a couple’s prom ticket?”

Beth sank in her chair. “It was me.”

“Apparently whoever you talked to called and complained to their mother and she was very annoyed at this breach of decency.”

Tara was frozen to her chair as she watched him sweat under their gaze. It was nothing she wasn’t used to, people had given her and Alisha bad looks all the freaking time, and they had gone to a city high school, where they couldn’t actually get away with being openly homophobic.

Suddenly, Beth was bigger than normal as she straightened up in her seat, her lip curling in disdain. “Are you saying we can’t go to prom?”

“Not as a couple the way real couples are going. It takes away from the specialness! I don’t know if you thought it would be funny or if you just wanted to save a few bucks getting the shared ticket…”

“We’re a _couple_ ,” Tara snapped, indignant. “That’s why.”

“Well, it still stands. Buy separate tickets. It would be a scandal no one wanted, parents would complain, students would get distracted.”

“Us being a couple would distract students?” Beth asked, gesturing through his office window to a boy and girl making out on the front lawn. “Seriously? Do you ever go online, sir? You know this isn’t going to end well for you, don’t you? Are we going to have to start our own prom or should I just called Sherriff Grimes in here?”

“It isn’t illegal to ban two disruptive students from a school-funded event!” he said, clearly alarmed by the prospect of having to death with Rick Grimes.

Tara could barely catch her breath, and tried to blink away the tears. “It’s not a big deal, just go to prom with Noah,” she said under her breath. “Clearly my kind aren’t welcome.”

Beth shot a look at the principal that would probably scare the piss out of braver men and both of them left the office without being dismissed.

“Are you okay?” Beth asked, still obviously furious. Tara nodded, silently trying to slow down her breathing. It wasn’t like she’d never had a panic attack before, the horrible feeling in her chest was familiar to her. “I’m going to call Abe.” Tara gave that idea a thumbs up.

Beth went back to class and Tara sat on the picnic tables in front of the school, finally calm. Abe showed up to sign her out, putting a hand on her shoulder as they walked out of the building. “What happened?”

“The principal was just yelling at us and I freaked out a little,” she muttered, embarrassed over her freak out as she got into the wagoneer.

“What did you do?”

“He just doesn’t want us to go to prom,” she said. “As a couple.”

Abraham slammed on the brakes before they even got out of the parking lot. “ _What the fuck?”_ he basically screamed, turning around.


End file.
